“Morning, dumbass,” he said quietly.
Ricky sat up and stretched lazily. “Morning to you too, dumber-ass.”
Lance waved his hand in front of his face dramatically. “Ooh, morning breath.” Ricky punched him. “Keep talking like that and I’ll tell mom we slept together.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “I think she already knows that.” Then he shoved Ricky off the chair and stood to stretch out his achy limbs. His legs felt almost numb and he needed to walk and get the circulation going. So did Ricky. They stretched and walked off their stiffness before Lance finally noticed the agent watching them. The man’s lips were curled into a look of disdain.
Oh, great, Lance thought, another hater. He sighed and stepped over to the man. “Where is everyone?”
“Throne Room, I believe,” the man answered crisply and without inflection.
“Thanks.”
The boys strode down the hall to the Throne Room and entered. Everyone was there, milling and talking. Arthur and Jenny turned to greet them with big smiles.
“You boys were so tired we wanted to let you sleep,” Jenny said as she kissed each of them on the cheek.
Arthur engulfed them in a hug with his long, strong arms and Lance suddenly felt like a little boy again, but in a good way - a little boy whose father loved and nurtured him and would always keep him safe. But as Arthur pulled back, Lance felt that chill ride up his back with a fury, because he knew deep down that his dad wouldn’t always be there to keep him safe. And that realization scared him more than the guy stalking him.
Ryan approached looking more tired and rumpled than usual, with Gibson at his side. It was obvious both men hadn’t slept at all and Ryan, in particular, bore the brunt of that lack because of his age.
“Morning boys,” the older man grunted, swigging from a mug of steaming fresh coffee that filled the air with its enticing aroma. Lance loved the smell, but hated the taste. More irony, he knew. “Let’s get everybody together and I’ll let you know what we found.”
So Arthur called everyone to order. Reyna and Esteban had arrived early at Arthur’s request and sat with Darnell and Justin and the family in the front row. The numerous patrol knights sat behind them.
Looking uncomfortable up on the stage, Ryan gazed down at them and took another swig from his mug. “Okay, here’s the deal. Secret Service and FBI have combed the entire hotel. They found bugs in this room, the computer lab, the boys’ rooms, Arthur and Jenny’s room, the training center, the Renaissance dining room, and the kitchen. Those have all been neutralized and no others were found. How they got there and for how long remains a mystery.” He gestured to one of the Secret Service agents, a guy whose name Lance remembered to be Clancy. He was the agent in charge.
Clancy stepped forward, his crisp black suit almost shimmering beneath the chandelier lights, his little coiled earpiece glinting ominously.
“Bottom line, everyone, you trust no one. I know the Kabbalogy folks don’t like it, but this place is a non-profit and from now on all traffic in and out is strictly curtailed. Anyone even setting foot on the premises must be vetted by me or my men. We can run their names through our national database. We still don’t know if these attacks might be related to terrorism, foreign or domestic, or if it’s just a personal vendetta like the perp keeps indicating. However, our job per the president of the United States is to keep all of you alive, and that’s what we intend to do. Your wireless access code will be changed daily and you’ll need to update your phones and computers. I know that sounds excessive, but we’re dealing with some smart people here and we can’t take any chances. We will do our best to backtrack the latest text sent to Sir Lance, but thus far the perp has proven cleverer than our IT guys. As for venturing out in public, same protocol as before. Vests, full upper body, for everyone, and you travel only in our cars, which have bulletproof glass installed. The listening devices we discovered will be sent to our labs for analysis. Any questions?”
Chris raised his hand. “Do I still get to wear one of your bulletproof vests?”
The man didn’t smile, but Lance thought he detected the beginnings of one. “As before, whenever you venture out of this place, young man, yes, you will be vested.”
“Cool,” Chris said with a grin, turning to Lance happily. “I like those vests.”
Lance threw his arm around his little brother and pulled him in close. God, how he loved this boy!
By the time the meeting broke up, Lance felt once again like he was on house arrest and hiding from his enemy, which he hated. While he’d always hidden from himself growing up, he’d never shied away from anyone who wanted to hurt him. Richard had made him almost feral when he’d first run from the man’s house, and he’d lashed out at anyone just for looking at him the wrong way.
But this time, he realized, as he accompanied Ricky and the others to the Computer Lab to network on their amendments, he had nowhere to take the fight building within him. He desperately wanted to protect Ricky and Chris and the whole family, but he didn’t know how since he didn’t know who. And that was more frustrating than anything.
†††
New Camelot settled into a routine whereby everyone, even visiting knights who’d sworn allegiance to Arthur and the Round Table, were searched and vetted by the Secret Service each time they entered and exited. These kids, all of whom had grown up experiencing police harassment, didn’t take well to this kind of scrutiny, and the gatherings often turned into complaint sessions.
Arthur assured them that the extra security was for their protection and that of himself and his family. They grumbled every time, but grudgingly agreed. Most just wanted to find the stalker and “Kick his ass.”
“Alas,” Arthur reminded them after the first such complaints, his face deadly serious, “we do not know where to find him. I can assure you if I knew, his ass would have already been kicked by me.”
That drew a relaxed laugh from the assembled kids, and the meeting went on as planned.
Reyna pleaded with Arthur to take Jenny out on the town for their anniversary, but the king demurred, reminding her that Jenny would be too nervous leaving the boys behind. Knowing that New Camelot security had been breached, she hovered around the kids more than she knew she ought, but her protective instincts wouldn’t let her do otherwise. Arthur assured Reyna that he and Jenny would have a quiet, romantic dinner in one of the smaller dining rooms to celebrate their first year together.
November moved along quietly without any more drama until finally it was Thanksgiving again. This would be their third one at New Camelot and, despite all that had happened, and the apathy directed toward his CBOR from Capitol Hill, Lance had so much to be thankful for he wasn’t sure he could narrow down the list as they sat to eat dinner that night. He knew the old Congress would take its annual Christmas break soon and the new Congress wouldn’t be seated until January. Edwin had been in regular contact and told them to just sit tight until the freshmen senators and representatives began their terms and then hit everyone up again. But his personal blessings were almost countless, and, as always, he doubted that he deserved them.
Everyone sat at the longest table in the Renaissance Dining Room. Of course Arthur and Jenny, both dressed elegantly as they would for a formal gathering, held court at one end of the massive, cheerfully decorated table. Lance and Ricky and Chris flanked them to one side, with Kai and Dakota flanking them on the other. Ryan and Gibson were there, and Justin. To everyone’s delight, Justin’s mother Sandra had joined them. Lance could tell Justin was almost giddy with joy to have his parents back together. Darnell was present, as was Techie, who said his parents didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving since they were from Vietnam. Reyna and Esteban were also in attendance, but joining them this year were Esteban’s mom, Claudia, and his little sister, Rosa, and Reyna’s parents––Jessica and Oscar.
As always, Arthur spoke first. “I am always thankful for my beautiful wife and my amazing sons for whom I feel great pride.�
� He squeezed Jenny’s hand and grinned at his three sons. “However,” Arthur went on, “this year in particular I am especially thankful for the presence of Sir Dakota and Sir Kai.”
He turned to gaze with admiration at the two young men, dressed in their finest regalia, who sat gaping at the king’s words.
“These two fine young men have been with us a year now, and I have come to think of them as more than mere knights of the Table. I have come to think of them as a part of my family for as long as they may wish to remain.” He raised his glass of wine to the two Indians, who sat openmouthed with shock. For once Kai wasn’t laughing. “To Sir Dakota and Sir Kai, my sons by love and devotion.”
Everyone raised a glass, even little Rosa, and said, “Here, here.” And they drank.
The Indians were speechless, but clearly touched by the king’s words and the show of support from everyone around them. Lance could even see Dakota’s flinty face shimmer with emotion and suspected he’d never been complimented like that in his life.
As everyone went around the table and offered their thanks for something, Lance was amazed to hear Reyna’s parents express their gratitude to Arthur and Jenny for being better parents to Reyna than they had ever been. There was a moment of silence after that, and then Reyna leaned in to hug her mom. The lady, so elegantly attired and coiffed, seemed awkward hugging her daughter, but Reyna held on all the same.
When the ritual finally got around to Kai and Dakota, the two young men seemed at a loss for words. Kai began haltingly, “You know, we don’t celebrate this day in Native cultures cuz, well, we told you last year.” He glanced at Dakota nervously as though afraid he might offend the other boy. “But I like this tradition of thanking God, or the Great Spirit, and I’m thankful for my Native brother Dakota being here with me and for the chance to be part of something so great.” He bowed his head nervously and didn’t even laugh.
Lance grinned at him and then fixed his eyes on Dakota, nervously fidgeting. Lance recognized the signs––the boy wanted a drink and he wanted it badly. Wondering what could be troubling him so much this night, Lance asked gently, “What about you, Dakota? Anything you’re thankful for?”
Dakota looked up then and met his gaze across the table. “I am grateful and humbled to be part of this family. I do not deserve such respect.”
There was a moment of stunned silence following the boy’s words, and hoping to bypass the awkward moment, Lance turned to Ricky, nudging him to say something.
“I’m grateful for this boy beside me,” Ricky began, throwing his arm around Lance lovingly and grinning. “My brother and soul mate, the keeper of my heart, the boy who’ll do anything for me, even skateboard over a president’s speech.” Everyone laughed. “And I’m grateful to God for sending me a mom and dad to love me when my birth parents could not.”
Arthur and Jenny beamed at him, and Ricky smiled warmly over at them.
Lance cleared his throat. “I am thankful for so many things I don’t even know where to begin,” he gushed, his voice choked with emotion. “God has been so good to me, bettern’ I deserve. I’m beyond thankful for my parents who chose to love me because they wanted to, especially my dad who’s made me the man-in-training I am.” Everybody chuckled at that. “Of course, I’m grateful to have Ricky by my side, holding my heart and soul in his hands and making sure I never stumble. He’s my rock and my better half. But I’m also grateful to these guys across from me, Kai and Dakota.”
The two Indians looked startled anew to hear themselves once more singled out for praise.
“Since these guys joined us last year, they’ve risked their lives for me, they’ve worked their butts off for me, they’ve educated me and watched over me and saved my life. I consider you guys my brothers, not just Native brothers, but blood brothers. Carnales, in Spanish. I love you both, and I thank you both.”
He raised his glass of sparkling cider and everyone followed suit. Kai and Dakota looked fearfully embarrassed, but raised their own glasses to acknowledge the tribute. Then dinner was served and the entire group dug in with gusto.
Lance, however, kept noting the sad, faraway look in Dakota’s eyes, even as Kai would laughingly try to draw him into a joke or conversation. Dakota merely grunted his responses and listlessly picked at his food. Lance desperately wanted to find out what was wrong because he saw that need in the other boy’s eyes. He was still certain Dakota had been drinking on and off for several months, but since it seemed to have stopped he’d let the matter drop without saying anything. Now he vowed to seek the young man out after dinner and speak with him privately, hoping his soul whispering skills could read between the lines of Dakota’s unspoken words and tightly wound body language.
Given the abundance of rooms, everyone elected to stay overnight so they wouldn’t have to drive home. Of course, Reyna’s parents made sure she and Esteban had separate rooms, which made Esteban’s mom laugh. Once Jenny had assigned everyone a room, she kissed Lance and Ricky goodnight, hugged Kai, who stood with them, and then went to put Chris to bed.
Lance followed Ricky and Kai into Ricky’s room and they all plopped down on the enormous bed, stuffed and sluggishly tired. It had probably been the best Thanksgiving ever for Lance, even better than his last two. He reached out and entwined his fingers with Ricky’s and grinned happily over at this boy he would gladly die to protect. Ricky smiled back and they just lay side by side in silence. Then Kai, who was sitting on the corner of the bed, cleared his throat and stood up.
“Uh, I’ll let you guys be alone.”
Lance sat up, still holding onto Ricky’s hand. “No, that’s okay, Kai, we’re not gonna make out or anything.”
Now Ricky sat up and mock glowered. “We’re not?”
Lance laughed, and Kai joined him. Then Lance frowned. “Anybody seen Dakota since dinner?”
Ricky shook his head and so did Kai.
“I’ll go find him,” Kai said with a sigh.
But Lance stopped him. A bad feeling had just crept up his spine as he recalled that look on Dakota’s face during dinner. “No, I’ll go. He’s my roomie, right?” He laughed, but knew it probably sounded forced.
Ricky eyed him uncertainly. “Want me to come?”
Lance shook his head. “Naw. I wanna talk with him about something anyway.” He smirked. “I’ll come by later to tuck your dumb ass in before I go to bed.”
That made Ricky grin and then Lance was out the door and into the hall before the other boy could tell something was wrong. Lance knew there had to be alcohol somewhere in the pantry, or maybe there was a wine cellar in this place. He’d never thought to ask.
Making his way down the front staircase, Lance ducked past the empty check-in desk and headed down the hall past the Renaissance Dining Room and into the expansive kitchen. It was empty, the household cooks having gone home after preparing dinner for the family. He snooped around, opening this pantry or that one, searching for the wine storage or an entrance to a wine cellar. Finally, in one corner at the back of the kitchen, behind tall rolling food carts, Lance spotted a door cracked open. He navigated his way between the carts and pulled open the door. Wooden steps led down, but these didn’t look like they led to the basement where the old furniture was stored. The light was already on, and Lance suspected he knew what he’d find down there. Heart filled with anxiety, he began his descent.
The steps creaked and groaned beneath his sneakered feet, but there were no other sounds to be heard. As he stepped onto the hard concrete floor, Lance glanced around at rack after rack of wine bottles reaching from floor to ceiling.
Then he heard what sounded like muffled crying, maybe groaning, coming from the back of the cellar. Wending his way between the towering wine racks, Lance rounded the last one and saw him. Dakota sat spread eagle on the floor, leaning up against a hard brick wall, a full bottle in hand. Two empty ones lay on the stone floor beside him. The boy’s magnificent black hair dangled in front of his face and splayed outward over his l
ap, his head was bent, and he was crying softly, achingly.
Lance’s heart began to pound with empathy. It sounded like him a few years back when he’d been lonely or depressed, and he desperately wanted to help this lost soul who had done so much for him and Ricky.
Lance stepped forward and Dakota lifted his head. With one hand he pushed aside his hair and gasped when he saw Lance looking sadly down at him.
Flashing back to that morning when Jack had found him in the alley where Mark died, Lance gingerly stepped forward. “May I?” he asked, mimicking Jack’s words to him and indicating the spot beside Dakota with his arm.
Dakota nodded and looked away, clearly embarrassed. Lance sat beside the other boy, leaning up against the cold brick wall, the coolness of the cellar seeping into his tunic and further dampening his mood.
“What’s wrong, Dakota? Tell me.”
Dakota did not look up, but Lance saw him grip the neck of the bottle with white-knuckled intensity. “I have dishonored you and your father. But mostly you.”
Lance was mystified. “How did you dishonor me? You saved my life, like three times already.”
Dakota turned his head away, hair creating a wall between them, a trick Lance knew all too well. “I called you winkte and mocked you for it.”
Lance was still confused. “Yeah, well, you only did that once. I forgot all about it.”
Dakota still looked away. “I didn’t.” He paused a moment. Lance wasn’t sure just how drunk he was, so he waited patiently. “Did Laughs A Lot tell you about him and me at the powwows?”
“Not too much. He said they were fun. He said you guys danced with a lot of different people from other tribes, but that’s about all.”
Dakota blew out a raspy breath and almost laughed. “He danced a lot, Lance,” the young man said, his voice laced with sadness and regret. “He danced with every girl that was there. He was popular. Everybody loved him. Me, I didn’t like dancing much, and I sucked at all that social stuff. So I only danced with one person at every powwow. The only person I wanted to dance with.”
And The Children Shall Lead Page 35